


Drink Me In

by doobler



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Frottage, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Jackvin, M/M, Mieoff, Mild Gore, Multi, OT6, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, indulgence at its finest tbh, jeremwood, sex mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: AU I made up where the Gents are old ass vampires and the Lads are newly turned immortals





	1. The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fake AH Crew is more dangerous than you would think-- not only are they all immortal, half of them vampires, but they're all also certifiable morons who do the stupidest shit imaginable.  
> Like pass out in the middle of a fight.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!”

Michael swore half to himself and half to Jeremy who was following close behind, machine gun aimed and at the ready. They found Ryan right where his last distress call has rung out– collapsed behind a partially ripped down KFC/Taco Bell. The vampire was limp, fingers twitching as dust settled around him.

“Bastard should’ve fed before we left, what a fucking idiot,” Michael sounded stressed. He dropped to his knees, sliding across the ground to Ryan’s side. Jeremy stood by, watching, waiting.

“Ryan!! Ryan!! Can you hear me?? Earth to fucking moron, it’s karma here to beat your ass!!”

Michael leaned over, gingerly pulling back Ryan’s eyelid. A single crimson iris rolled back, unresponsive.

“Jeremy, you gotta–”

Before Michael could react, Jeremy dropped beside them. He yanked out the dagger everyone knew Ryan kept close to his chest and rolled back his sleeve.

“We’re immortals, it’ll be fine.” Jeremy seemed to be trying to convince himself.

Slicing the tender skin of his inner wrist, Jeremy rubbed his forearm, coaxing out a delectable rivulet of thick, dark blood. Cradling the back of Ryan’s head, Jeremy led the vampire’s lips to the wound, trying his best to revive him.

A few moments passed.

Ryan’s eyes snapped open, pupils shrunk down to pinpoints. He surged forward, grasping Jeremy’s face between his palms.

“Jeremy.” He breathed, before he attacked.

Fangs sunk down into the pliable flesh of Jeremy’s neck. Ryan was horribly malnourished so his movements were sloppy and rough. He drank loudly, almost moaning against Jeremy’s skin. The younger Lad gasped in reply, curling his fist into Ryan’s golden hair. 

“I’ll uh. I’ll keep watch.” Michael excused himself, feeling oddly uneasy, like he was witnessing something intimate.

Jeremy groaned a reply, hips rising as Ryan drank deeper. Michael had felt the same way before once– Geoff had been in the same state and clung to Michael the same way. It was almost erotic, to be needed so desperately.

It’d also made Michael cum in his pants so he knew now was the time to back off.

“Ry, Ryan, Ry–” Jeremy muttered, tugging gently at the vampire’s hair. “It’s too much– I’m gonna– I need to–”

With a gasp, Ryan pulled back, breathing harshly. Jeremy groaned, pushing the heel of his fist against his crotch. So close. But not now.

“Th-thank you,” Ryan huffed, dragging the back of his hand across his lips. Blood smeared over his pearly skin. “I needed that.”

“Same– I mean.” Jeremy coughed, struggling to stand up. “Uh yeah. You too– you’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember to comment!! if you like this, maybe go check out my fake ah crew blog over at http://ask-thevagabond.tumblr.com/


	2. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same AU but different place? Ryan takes the rest of the Crew to his favorite nightly hangout.

The entire Crew is in absolute disbelief when they finally reach their destination.

“Y'know, when y'said you’d show us your nightly stompin’ grounds,” Gavin pipes up, barely heard over the thumping bass. “I was expecting an abandoned mill or some old arse factory, not a bleedin’ night club.”

Ryan shrugs, ignoring the faces of absolute shock as a waitress knowingly offers him a chilled glass filled with what had to be Diet Coke.

“The high energy helps me think.” Is all Ryan offers.

The sextuplet is led towards the back of the club. Ryan waves at the owner, bowing his head slightly, and stands back as the curtain to his private booth is pulled back. The Crew scuttles in, sliding around the circular leather seating. A bowl of chips is set down on the table.

“Enjoy your evening, Mr.Vagabond.” The waitress smiles, winking at the rest of the Crew before backing out.

“Okay, what the fuck is actually going on?” Geoff demands, thumping his palms onto the table.

Ryan munches on a chip, taking a long sip of Coke. He tongues his fangs in thought, pursing his lips slightly.

“Alright, fine. I’ve been coming here for about a decade, in secret, and actually have 50% ownership. I’ve been slowly funneling cash into this places for ages–”

“Okay but WHY.” Michael pressed, watching Gavin shovel chips into his mouth.

“Because,” Ryan grins, eyes flickering crimson. “Why not?”

Before the Crew can press anymore, Ryan leaps over the table, easily clearing his drink and the snacks, and grabs the nearest member. His fingers curl around Jeremy’s wrist and yank him, stumbling, onto his feet.

“I asked you to dress nice for a good reason,” Ryan speaks up, eyeing the Lad up and down. His gaze snags on a slightly opened violet shirt and matching deep orange jeans. “I’m in a mood to dance tonight.”

Jeremy barely registers anything at this point. All around him is a blur, smudged with the smell of smoke and alcohol, cheap cologne and sweat. The crowd is dense but Ryan parts the seas like silent blade. His grip is tight and persistent.

Twisting the Lad around, Ryan grips Jeremy’s waist with one hand and the back of his neck with the other. His skin is cool and refreshing, providing much needed relief to Jeremy’s burning flesh.

He can’t even hear the music– only feeling it through his feet and thumping in his head. Ryan moves like a shark through still waters, elegant yet dangerous. His hips are languid, his turns perfection, his arms constantly swirling and spinning. His eyes glow in the dim light, glittering like dying stars. 

“How the hell can you dance like this??” Jeremy finally gasps as Ryan turns them back to front.

A hand cups Jeremy’s growing hardness through his jeans.

“I’m a very old and perverted man, Jeremy.” Ryan purrs into his ear, breathing hot against his skin. 

“Y-you’re acting k-ki-kinda weird.” 

“It’s because of you, Jeremy,” Ryan rumbles. The Lad can feel Ryan grinding against his back. “You set my blood on fire like no one else does. I’ve gotten a taste of you and I want more, I wanna drown in you, wanna suffocate, I want all of you for as long as I can.”

Jeremy moans, stifling it with a hand across his mouth. Ryan chuckles, low and dark, and thrusts hard against his back.

“No one can hear you. Be as loud as you want.”

Swallowing thickly, Jeremy shakes his head. Ryan grabs harder, cupping his balls through his jeans, a silent inquisition.

“Y-yes.” Jeremy consents.

Ryan buries his face in Jeremy’s neck, nuzzling and breathing deep. Jeremy can almost hear Ryan’s fangs extend, can sense the incision before it happens. He nearly collapses but Ryan’s arm wraps strong and tight around his belly. The vampire drinks slowly this time, relishing it, savoring it. He hums his approval and Jeremy can feel it. Soon enough, Ryan’s hand slips down the front of his jeans and he’s stroking Jeremy off, sucking at his neck in time with his ministrations. 

“Fu-fuck, Ryan,” Jeremy groans, fucking into Ryan’s fist. “I thought– I didn’t–”

Ryan pulls away, breathing hard against Jeremy’s throat. He laves the bite mark with his tongue, stopping the blood flow, moaning his approval.

“I love you just as much as I do everyone else,” Ryan gasps. “And I wanna make you mine.”

Ryan bites again and Jeremy muffles a scream as he comes, bucking into Ryan’s hand. He goes slack quickly, shuddering, letting Ryan take his weight.

“The night’s still young,” Ryan whispers, fingers ghosting across Jeremy’s still throbbing cock. “And I’m not done yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember to comment!! if you like this, maybe go check out my fake ah crew blog over at http://ask-thevagabond.tumblr.com/


	3. The Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finds out that malnourished vampires are a lot more trouble than he previously thought

Michael isn't used to being in the penthouse alone. It feels weird-- he's so used to a constant hustle and bustle, Gavin's shenanigans, Jack's motherly nagging, Jeremy's chattering, Ryan's chaos, Geoff's moaning. But now silence settles over the flat like a smothering fog and unease crawls up and down his spine.  
He putters around, fixing a drink only to set it aside, starting up the XBox only to abandon it, flipping through movies and TV stations until he collapses against the couch in a huff.  
"Fuck, I'm BORED." He groans.  
Just then, a pitiful moan replies, echoing from the Crew's shared bedroom. Michael tentatively follows the sound, pausing only to grab a nearby baseball bat ("Why the fuck is this in the kitchen?" he whispers to himself).  
"I'm just gonna warn you," Michael calls, easing the door open. "I can't die and I know the sacred art of ass kicking and New Jersey brawling--"  
The room is just as messy as it always is, clothes thrown here and there, abandoned projects collecting dust. All six beds are pressed together in a jumbled rectangle, covered by at least ten different blankets.  
In the middle of the madness is Geoff. Michael can only tell from the solitary tattooed leg jutting out from underneath the covers. The whimpering moans are coming from the mound of blankets.  
"Geoff? You okay, bud?" Michael creeps forward, gingerly peeling back the fluffy dome. "I know you're a vampire but you're not really nocturnal any more, right....?"  
When Michael uncovers Geoff's face, his spine goes stiff. The Gent's eyes are hazy, unfocused. Their usual crimson glean is dulled to a muddy maroon. He doesn't even seem to fully acknowledge Michael's presence, reaching out blindly with a sluggish arm.  
"What the hell happened?" Michael presses, leaning in closer.  
"So.... Thirsty.... Haven't fed.... In so long...."  
"What? But it was Sunday--"  
Michael's eyes goes wide. Every Sunday, the vampires feed for the sake of organization. That way, they don't wind up malnourished and the familiar schedule puts everyone at ease.  
"But we had a heist on Friday," Michael thinks out loud. "And had to lie low, we only got back yesterday which was.... Tuesday...."  
Shooting up, Michael flings off the blankets and starts peeling off his shirt. Geoff stirs, trying to prop himself up.  
"Now's not the time for seduction--" Geoff slurs, watching Michael fumble around.  
"You and I both know you're a fuckin' slob," Michael grins, flipping open the Swiss army knife he always keeps on hand. "And I like that shirt too much to get blood on it."  
With calculated aim, Michael cut a small line across the tender curve of his neck. He pressed just below the mark, feeling it start to trickle.  
"Okay, hurry, before you pass out--"  
Geoff's pupils shrink in a split second and a brief shock of fear courses through Michael's body. The lethargic vampire surges forward in an instant, clasping the sides of Michael's face. His fangs extend, the shortest of the Gents, but still long enough to get the job done. He clamps onto the cut, slurping noisily before sinking his teeth downward.  
Michael cries out, gripping at Geoff's shirt. Despite feigning ignorance, he listened way back when the Crew exposed their half vampiric population and Jack described the process. As soon as Geoff's fangs sank into his skin, a magically infused venom was injected into his veins, making his blood flow more heavily and his body relax. Coagulants in Geoff's saliva would seal up the incision once he was done with a swift lick. It was a weirdly well thought out biological system, half magic, half scientific.  
This time, however, felt radically different. After years of being partners with three different vampires, Michael felt something entirely new.  
Pleasure and heat sang in his veins, making his chest tight and his head spin. Geoff was drinking hard and sloppily, blood smearing across his lips. Everything burned, leaving Michael to gasp and moan. His cock thickened in his jeans.  
"Fuh-fuck!!!" Michael groaned, bucking his hips upwards. "Fuckin-- godDAMN, Geoff!!"  
The vampire doesn't reply, instead shifting to press his palm against Michael's straining erection. He kneads and rubs through the denim, making Michael thrash. The smell of heady blood and sex fills the room. Before they know it, their legs are intertwined, thighs insistently grinding against the others' hardness. Michael can feel precum soak the front of his briefs.  
"Geoff-- fuck, Geoff, I'm--"  
At that, Geoff finally pulls back. His departure is rough and blood oozes down Michael's neck. When his tongue salves the wound, Michael gasps and cums right then and there, trembling in Geoff's arms.  
"Th-thanks, uhhhuuh, sorry for that--" Geoff flushes, awkwardly settling his hands on Michael's hips.  
"'sfine.... 'sfine...." Michael drags a hand down his face, laughing softly. "Ohhh my life is fucked. And weird."  
"Sorry, I didn't--"  
"Nah," Michael manages a playful grin, gently patting Geoff's cheek. It's weird seeing his own blood stain the older man's lips. "I like it. I like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember to comment!! if you like this, maybe go check out my fake ah crew blog over at http://ask-thevagabond.tumblr.com/


	4. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has to confront his fears

Sundays used to be good days in Gavin's book. He preferred them lazy, hanging around the penthouse and endlessly tinkering the day away. Last Sunday, he built a mini catapult that could fling gooey globs of dough across the room. He spent a few good hours asking Ryan to make more ammo for him to attack his fellow and beloved Crew members. Granted, he was forced to clean up afterwards but the reward was well worth it.  
But this Sunday was a bad Sunday, possibly even the worst Sunday.  
It'd been Geoff's idea to have a Sunday heist. His reasoning was that "no one would expect a heist on a day where everything closes early" and "people sit on their asses all day and do nothing".  
He was partially right. The museum they'd decided to ransack was wholly unprepared and they raiding the fine jewelry exhibit with no problems. But when they skittered into the impressionism sector, alarms blared to life, sending the sextuplet into a panic. They separated by instinct, Geoff and Jeremy dashing into the modern art wing while Ryan and Michael dove for cover in the middle eastern art exhibit.  
"Probably a dumbarse idea to do a heist with almost no weaponry, eh?" Gavin called over his shoulder as Jack shot the lock off of a closed wing.  
"Yeah, not our best plan," Jack rolled his eyes, pulling the Lad inside. "But you know Geoff--"  
"He never fuckin' listens." Gavin finished.  
The pair allowed themselves a soft giggle before hunkering down. The wing was unlit and under construction, covered in tarp and rebar. Half of the frames were hanging empty and the other half were protected with plastic. Jack and Gavin scuttled into the furthest corner, crouching down safely behind a massive pillar and a few layers of tarp.  
They waited quietly, listening intently. Jack's comm buzzed and he immediately answered.  
"Team Trial & Error, come in, this is Jeremy--"  
"Lil' J!" Jack whispered, cupped the comm to his mouth. "What's the situation?"  
"I'm hiding with Geoff-- we just checked in on Crazy Mad and they're also okay. How're you guys?"  
"We're fine," Jack flashed Gavin a weak smile. "You got a plan?"  
"Yeah, security's starting to lose interest so we're just gonna lie low until it clears and then fuckin' bolt. We'll buzz you when we're ready."  
"Aye, aye, Captain Shortstack." Jack replied before switching it off.  
"Great," Gavin scowled, digging his nails into his palms. "We're bloody stuck."  
"Hey, Gav, I don't wanna alarm you but..."  
Jack slumped over slightly, making Gavin jump. He tilted up the Gent's face, taking in his glassy eyes.  
"What the hell's wrong?" Gavin squeaked, his voice going high.  
"I knew a Sunday heist would be a horrible idea..." Jack reached out, cupping Gavin's cheek. "Gavin, I gotta feed, I'm sorry--"  
"Here?! Now?!"  
Jack's chest constricted at the look of sheer panic on Gavin's face. The Lad was still unsettled by the process. He needed a calm and secure environment. Squatting in the corner of a dark, silent museum exhibit wasn't necessarily ideal.  
"C'mere." Jack huffed, cupping the back of Gavin's head and pulling him in.  
Their lips met tenderly at first, warm and slightly chapped. Gav was shaking a little, giving a slight resistance as Jack brought him closer. Only when Jack eased him into his lap, one arm slung across his lower back, did Gavin relax. He let his jaw drop, shuddering when Jack's tongue snaked inside. His breathing quickened, heart pounding. He and Jack never got to kiss like this, so raw and vulnerable. Jack deepened the kiss, tilting his head as their mouths slotted together. Gavin gripped a fistful of his shirt, somehow breaking away enough to slip of Jack's glasses.  
When Gavin finally went boneless, Jack peppered kisses along his jaw, sucking softly at his skin. The Lad moaned, grinding slightly against Jack's stomach. He only let out a softly startled whimper when Jack clamped down, gingerly sinking his fangs into Gavin's neck.  
"Ohhhohohohhhh you mingy lil' prick," Gavin huffed, his stomach tensing as Jack drank. "I need to stop underestimatin' you."  
Jack chuckled softly. As he eased off, quickly sated, he soothed the bite with wet kisses, nuzzling up underneath Gavin's jaw.  
"Thank you." He muttered, hugging the smaller man's waist.  
Before Gavin could reply, the comm buzzed again.  
"Ah! Look's like it's time to get the fuck outta this creepy place." Jack beamed. "You ready?"  
"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember to comment!! if you like this, maybe go check out my fake ah crew blog over at http://ask-thevagabond.tumblr.com/


	5. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads know nothing about their mysterious admirers and are faced with a decision

The first ever successful heist set the boys' blood on fire.  
They careened down the highway, whooping and hollering, watching as red and blue lights gradually disappeared behind them.  
"I'd say we're in the clear!!" Jeremy called over the wind, nearly hurling his pistol in excitement.  
"All we gotta do is make it to the safehouse and we're good!!" Gavin replied, gripping the dashboard with white knuckles.  
"We'll make it." Michael grit out. He yanked the steering wheel over, screeching over a few lanes towards Mount Chilead.  
He allowed himself a moment to admire his small crew. Gavin had been his friend for ages now, and Jeremy just slightly shorter. They'd been through thick and thin together, making them an unbreakable team with a more breakable success record.  
"We're gonna have to lay low for a while," Michael spoke up, easing the van down windy mountain curves. The rattle of precious jewels and money from the back of the car made his nerves sing. "And it'd be best to spend this all nice and slow to not bring attention to ourselves--"  
"We did it!!" Jeremy whooped, immediately dropping his voice. He opted instead to cheer quietly, squeezing his compatriots' shoulders excitedly. "We actually--"  
Jeremy stopped, eyes widening as they finally pulled up to their safehouse. Waiting for them were three shadowy figures.  
"I'm gonna roll down the window," Michael dropped his voice. "But the van stays on."  
"Evenin', lads!" One of the shadows stepped forward, fists thrust into the pockets of an expensive looking suit. "Successful heist, I see!"  
"What's it to ya?!" Gavin poked his head out of the window, only to be pulled back in his seat by Michael.  
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty lil' head," The man stepped closer, illuminated by the headlights. His eyes were a pale blue, glinting mysteriously. Michael's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "We're just a couple of admirers!"  
"Admirers...?" Jeremy leaned in closer for a better look.  
"I'm Geoff," the man patted his chest. "That's Jack, and that's Ryan."  
The figures behind Geoff crept forward. Jack waved, looking oddly sunny in a dark Hawaiian print shirt. Beside him, Ryan was silent and motionless. His entire face was obscured by a skull shaped mask.  
"What a bunch of freaks." Gavin muttered under his breath.  
"Freaks who are impressed by your talent!" Geoff replied, making the boys jump. "We three have been working small time organized crime in this god awful city for ages now, and we've never seen somethin' so stupidly reckless as you boys just pulled off. Nearly brought me to tears, in full honesty."  
Geoff mimicked crying. Jack smiled. Ryan said nothing.  
"So we've come to recruit you of course."  
Before the boys could voice their disdain, Geoff held up his hand for silence.  
"You'd still do whatever you please on your off time but you'd technically work for me. We'd pull heists as a uh... Sextuplet and we'd all get an even six way split-- but they'll be big. Very big six way splits. I won't even take away your current bounty, that's all yours to claw over."  
"And what if we say no?" Michael interjected.  
Geoff motioned and Ryan bent over, pulling out a massive rocket launcher. He aimed it towards the safehouse, waiting.  
"You'd live in the lap of luxury," Geoff continued, sweeping his arms outwards. "Your family size would double. No more sleepless nights keeping watch, no more fearing for your lives, no more guns under pillows. Only safety and riches."  
Michael contemplated, tapping away at the wheel. Gavin and Jeremy watched him, scooting to the edges of their seats.  
"Do we tell them about our whole, y'know. Immortality thing?" Gavin whispered.  
"No. Not yet." Michael replied. "We're gonna take the offer. And if it goes sour, we slit their throats in their sleep."  
"I'm down with that," Jeremy scowled. "I'm sick of this place. 'Lap of luxury' sounds pretty fucking amazing."  
"Alright," Michael raised his voice, jutting his head out the window. "Deal. I'm Michael, this is--"  
"Don't worry, we know your names." Jack finally spoke, beaming at the trio.  
"I'll send you directions to the penthouse," Geoff whipped out his phone and Michael did the same. "Lay low here for two days. After that, take the back roads into the city. We'll be waiting for you there."  
They traded numbers and immediately, the directions were sent.  
"Enjoy your solitude, boys." Geoff purred.  
"Yeah, don't worry, we--"  
When the boys looked back up, the three men were gone, leaving them to wonder if it was all just a dream.  
Michael's phone buzzed and he pulled up the message.

 

 

"See you soon ;)"


	6. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crazy relationships have to have crazy origin stories, right?

It's bizarre just how fast the Crew becomes a single entity.  
It's only a week that the Lads stumble around the flat awkwardly, in absolute awe of its sheer size. They moved in on Monday and by that same Saturday, they're more than happy to call it home.  
Geoff keeps them organized and teaches them the nuance of crime. He's a bit sloppy when he isn't working, often drinking long from a flask tucked in his pocket, and when he's not in a slimming suit, he bums around in too-big t-shirts and pastel colored shorts. He teaches the Lads how to scan for cameras, take in security patterns, profile enemies in seconds flat. He gives them a home, he feeds them, and he helps them feel belonged.  
Ryan teaches them how to kill. At first, he's cold and hardened, barely speaking more than five words at a time. He takes the Lads out into the desert and shows them how to fire every gun, launcher, and incendiary he has. He throws knives, wires bombs, crafts crude and cruel weaponry seemingly out of nothing. But then he flubs once, tripping on the word "but", and the charade is broken. In truth, he's geeky, excitable, and warm. Once he's broken open, the Lads open up to him as well and they waste hours playing video games together well into the night.  
Jack is gentle and kind. He teaches the Lads how to drive-- how to properly drive. He careens down the highway like a bat out of hell, navigates skinny corridors with ease. He brandishes motorcycles, boats, cars, vans, jets, planes, you name it, and each is as second nature to him as breathing. He's his own brand of dangerous as well, a silent and stealthy killer. His sunny deposition and also unsuspecting aesthetic makes him easy to underestimate. The first time he gets truly upset, the Lads are in shock, and realize that the ginger-haired sunflower is just as deadly as his compatriots.  
By Sunday, the Lads have found home.

Four months later and the Fake AH Crew becomes a household name.  
No one dares to roam the streets at night, paralyzed in fear. The police are always on high alert, though they still succumb to the wild antics of these six legendary adversaries; the leader, the murderer, the nurturer, the fighter, the foreigner, and the wild card. Their faces aren't even plastered on wanted signs because no one's seen more than glimpses of fabric and the licking flames of the aftermath.

Everything comes to a head one foggy Monday morning.  
Early heists were sluggish and careful and maybe that's why they get caught.  
Having split into teams, the Crew is divided into three. The shipyard they've assaulted is in chaos, all sorts of authoritative officers running amok, guns held high. The Crew is almost home free. Today's bounty isn't treasure but information, endless files charting the courses of high end luxury liners and precious cargo. Jack and Jeremy run at a break neck pace, pockets filled with USBs. They effortlessly slide down corridors and across the concrete, eager to rendezvous with Ryan and Michael.  
"Crazy Mad, come in Crazy Mad, this is Jumbo Shrimp, are you locked and loaded?" Jeremy barks, twisting to land a perfect shot between one angry sailor's eyes.  
Silence on the comm.  
"Fuck!" Jack huffed, peering into one of the nearby storage rooms. Empty. "They should be in the munitions storage unit right fucking here!"  
"Plan G says they're ready and waiting," Jeremy jogs around Jack, kicking open the next door. "It's getting hot so we better--"  
Just inside, squeezed between shelves of gunpowder and fuse lines, are Ryan and Michael. Their bodies seem to intertwine, Ryan's hands shoved down the back of Michael's jeans, Michael's hands twisted in Ryan's hair. Their lips don't part for a moment, eyes lidded, heady moans rolling between each kiss.  
"Uhhhhhhh." Jeremy comments.  
"Oh my god--" Jack barges in, slamming a fist on the door. The duo jumps, cheeks burning like shimmering stars. "C'mon, you dilholes, we gotta fucking go!!"  
Ryan and Michael snap to attention and within moments, the foursome is racing across the pier into the awaiting speedboat. Geoff and Gavin are huddled down, the younger occasionally popping his head up to lob a sticky bomb into the surrounding crowd of police. Jack, Jeremy, Ryan, and Michael in turn slide into the boat and none are calm until the dock disappears well behind them.  
"So," Geoff starts, yelling over the crashing waves. "What the fuck was that?"

The conversation pauses until they're all safe at the penthouse, dripping wet and cold. Michael stands firm but Ryan looks more like a kicked puppy, trailing behind him.  
"Alright, assholes, listen," Geoff drags a hand down his face, massaging just below his eyes. "I genuinely don't care what kind of lifestyles you lead-- I don't give a single fuck. But if it's gonna fuck up our heists, I'm gonna outlaw that shit, got me? It'll be 2014 all over again."  
"But we're not getting married--" Michael starts, only for Geoff to shoot him a haughty glare.  
"Just. Keep it in your pants until we're out of the clear, comprende?"  
"Hey, uh, Geoff?" Jeremy steps in, fingers tangled with Jack's. "Since we're here..."  
"Holy shit, for real?" Geoff doesn't remotely sound upset, the smallest tired smile tugging at his lips. "Are all you motherfuckers fucking each other?"  
"We could be." Gavin pipes up, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.  
The Crew goes quiet for a moment.  
"So is this like. A six way mutual thing...?" Ryan asks, eyes widening as Gavin settles in his lap.  
"Seems so." Michael replies, nodding slowly.  
They all mutter, suddenly feeling awkward, before Jeremy claps his hands and stands to full attention.  
"Weren't we all gonna make homemade pizza together tonight?" He beamed.  
"Oh fuck yes, let's go!" Gavin immediately bolted, grabbing Jeremy's hand and dashing into the kitchen. Ryan followed close behind, already rattling off possible topping combinations, only for Michael to follow suit, voicing his disapproval of each.  
"So that happened." Jack laughs, reaching out to take Geoff's hand.  
"Fuck," Geoff's smile is wobbly at best as his free fingers card through his hair. "That went better than I could've possibly dreamed."  
"When do we tell them, then?"  
".... In time," Geoff sighs, letting Jack rest his head on his shoulder. "It can wait. Let's just... Enjoy it while we can."


	7. The Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lads discover the Gent's dirty little secret. And by little, I mean fucking enormous.

"We're just straight up fucked, right?" Jeremy said to himself amidst the chaos.  
The Crew, for the first time ever since they came together nearly eight months ago, finally found themselves properly screwed.  
It was one thing robbing a bank or stealing from a museum. It was an entirely other thing to try and break into a high security facility. Of course, the plan was mostly Gavin's, who wanted to take a group selfie in front of a tank. They'd snuck in no problem, armed to the teeth, but someone (Gavin) had tripped an alarm on the way out. Everyone in the compound sprung to attention and soon enough, the Crew found themselves huddling inside a hangar, desperately cowering from a small army.  
"Aaand here's the fucking tank." Michael scowled. "Great. Fantastic. What a GENIUS idea this was."  
"Oi! Don't go blamin' me!"  
"YOU'RE THE ONE THAT SET OFF THE FUCKING ALARM, WHAT DO YOU MEAN??"  
"Because YOU weren't listening!!"  
"I WASN'T LISTENING?!?"  
Geoff groaned, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as Jack gave him a supportive slap on the back.  
"The priority right now is getting the Gents out of here," Jeremy spoke up, ushering a silence to fall over the Crew. "We can die over and over, doesn't matter. But the Gents can't. They get out safe, we all get out."  
Gavin and Michael glanced at each other before meeting eyes with the older of the Crew. It'd been a few months since their secret of immortality had been unearthed but self sacrifices like that had never been put into effect.  
"We can take a few bullets up the ass," Jeremy offered a lop sided smile. "But you guys..."  
The others shuffled around awkwardly before Ryan stood. He peered around the hangar doors, taking in the two tanks and dozens of soldiers awaiting outside. Breathing deep, he zeroed in his gaze on Gavin.  
"Here's the plan."  
At that, he dropped to his knees, cradled the Brit's face in his hands, and clamped down on his neck.  
Michael, Jeremy, and Geoff screeched, watching Ryan sink his teeth into Gavin's flesh. Jack watched from the side, dragging a hand down his face.  
"What the fuck?!" Geoff bellowed as Ryan drew back, his lips streaked with dark crimson blood.  
"I thought this would be a better idea." Ryan shrugged.  
"Well I kinda wanted to WARN THEM FIRST."  
They all looked at Gavin who was slumped against the wall in shock, gingerly fingering the twin pinpoints oozing blood in his neck.  
"Sorry, Gav," Ryan offered. "But I had to."  
With that, Ryan walked towards the doors. Jeremy and Michael rose to stop him, only to get pinned down by the remaining Gents.  
"What the fuck?!" Michael struggled, trying to reach for Ryan. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"  
"He'll be fine!" Jack watched Ryan go, inhaling deeply. "We can't die either."  
"Uhm, what?!" Cried Jeremy.  
"We can't die," Geoff grit his teeth. "Because we're vampires."  
Ryan lifted his arms and a wave of darkness erupted from his person. Crackling energy filled the air, making any nearby technology scream and whistle. The sky seemed to darken slightly and a blood red glow surrounded Ryan's body. The tanks and soldiers went flying before disintegrating into nothingness. When he looked back at the Crew, his eyes burned a searing scarlet.  
"Let's go." He beckoned.

"Okay, so. Let's get this shit straight."  
Michael paced across the kitchen floor, trying to ignore Gavin's pathetic whimpers. He'd begged that someone patch up his neck despite the Gents telling him it'd heal up fine without.  
"You fuckers are old ass vampires. With crazy vampire powers. And you drink blood."  
Geoff went to confirm, only to have Michael silence him with a single raised finger.  
"You've been.... Fucking stalking us? Before we joined the Crew because....?"  
"You guys can't die," Ryan finished. He'd been commanded to sit as far from Gavin as possible. "And we're kinda sick of our previous partners dying off constantly."  
"So you're using us...?" Jeremy's brow furrowed.  
"No. No no no. Fuck no." Geoff rose from his seat, reaching over to cup Jeremy's cheek in his palm. "The feelings are real as dicks, we swear."  
"So where the fuck have you been getting blood this whole time?" Michael suddenly realized. "Jack said you guys feed like once a fucking week."  
"Well before, we would uh, steal a little from a local blood bank," Geoff looked sheepish before glaring at Ryan. "'Cept for Ryan. The creep likes preying on random ass people at night."  
"What can I say? Gotta keep the tradition alive." Ryan shrugged.  
"Jesus fucking Christ..." Michael mussed up his hair, leaning heavily against the kitchen island. "So now what? We become your blood slaves or some shit?"  
"More like 'consensual blood charity workers'," Ryan corrected. He cringed at the scowls that followed. "And only if you want."  
"Will it hurt?!" Gavin finally squawked. His eyes were wide and scared.  
"No, Ryan was just... Sloppy," Jack patted Gavin on the arm reassuringly. "It's supposed to be more like a pinch. And before we even drink, you're injected with a completely safe venom that dulls the pain anyways--"  
"Bullshite!!" Gavin squeaked.  
"I was in a rush, I'm sorry!!" Came Ryan's panicked reply.  
"If you want," Geoff spoke up. "Jack or I could show you what it's really like. It is Sunday after all which we've all kinda decided is feeding day."  
Michael and Jeremy swallowed thickly, only for Michael to step forward. He cocked his head to the side, bearing his throat.  
"Alright. Show me."  
Jack met him half way, cradling his head in one hand and pulling down the neck of his shirt with the other. Starting with a soft kiss, Jack sunk his fangs into Michael's neck. The Lad groaned softly, eyelids fluttering.  
"Fuck," He grunted, letting Jack bend him backwards slightly. "It doesn't hurt but-- shiiit, what the hell--"  
Jeremy watched, eyes widening. Michael swallowed thickly, making Jack chuckle. When Jack pulled away, he soothed the bite with a swipe of his tongue. His lips weren't nearly as bloody as Ryan's had been, almost perfectly clean.  
"Huh. I uh. I could definitely live with that." Michael commented.  
"Well that's bullshite, innit?" Gavin pouted, inspecting the wound. It was clean and all that was left were two miniscule points where Jack's fangs had been. "Ryan wasn't gentle with me like that!"  
"I'm sorry, Gavin, truly," Ryan rounded the table, taking Gavin's hand in his. He pressed a soft kiss on the bandage-free side of the Lad's neck. "But can we make this work? Or did I ruin it....?"  
Gavin looked to Jeremy and Michael, both of whom nodded sightly with smiles on their faces.  
"We're good." Gavin replied. "We'll make it all work."

**Author's Note:**

> please remember to comment and leave kudos! i also have an ask blog revolving around the fake ah crew over at ask-thevagabond.tumblr.com


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